The Ghost Of You
by The Cardinal Saint Miller
Summary: "If at any point, you don't co-operate with me..." He paused, shooting Daryl a devious look. "I will not hesitate to kill you." Terminus is gone, Rick has fled with the remainder of his group, and Gareth is left with nothing but a prisoner in the form of Daryl Dixon. He seeks revenge but along the way, feelings develop between the redneck and the cannibal. M/M slash, Rated M.
1. Awaken

_AN: Even though he's only been in a few episodes, I'm highly disappointed that Gareth has not been put into any slash fiction. I mean come on, seriously, LOOK AT HIM! I don't think I've been this excited since that crazy red-neck came out of the woods way back in season one. What was his name again? Oh yeah, Daryl. I like him._

_It's been a while since I've written any TWD fiction, so I guess in a way you could say I'm back. Whatever, I just want to write a load of smut revolving around my favorite redneck and favorite cannibal. I would love to hear your thoughts on this, so reviews are highly appreciated if you do happen to stumble across this story! Cheers._

_The Daryl/Gareth ship has sailed. - CSM _

**The Ghost Of You**  
><strong>Chapter One - Awaken <strong>

Warmth. The side of his body was heating up, not quite to the point of discomfort, but enough to awaken him from his groggy sleep. Daryl's eyes slowly flickered open, and he found himself hunched up next to a tall oak tree. Darkness flooding his vision as he tried to focus on something and anything. It had all gone terrible wrong, he knew that much. After a few steadying breaths he opened his eyes again, catching a glimpse of the flickering flames that were lighting up the surrounding area. That was where the heat was coming from. It was pleasant. As he studied the flames, his eyes caught something else... a figure of a tall man, sharpening a blade.

The last thing Daryl remembered, was that he was being dragged away. The explosion had gone off in Terminus, throwing them all to the ground, creating an epic battle between good and evil. Daryl clearly remembered leaving that slaughter house, entering the daylight and saving the rest of his friends from the vicious beasts that had imprisoned them. He remembered fighting his way though flames, smoke and a giant hoard of walkers, only to loose Rick somewhere along the way. Rick had always repeated that he saw Daryl as a brother, but to Daryl, Rick was more for a father figure. Ever since he lost Merle, he looked to Rick for guidance. He trusted Rick, but this time Rick had failed him. Daryl vaguely remembered being dragged away, a vicious burning pain inflaming the back of his skull, deep red blood seeping from the source of the pain, running down his neck, over his shoulder and across his chest. Then inky blackness, and nothing.

What had happened? Where was everyone? Where were the rest of his group? Daryl's head suddenly buzzed with energy as he tried to recapture recent memories which were long lost. Had Rick and himself been the only two to survive that day in Terminus?

"Rick?" Daryl croaked. He sighed and then looked through the flame of the burning fire towards the figure who had yet to reveal himself. Daryl assumed it was Rick. "What the hell happened? How long have I been out?"

The figure stayed for a moment, continuing to sharpen the blade in his hand, before he finally turned around and smirked at the helpless soul who had just awoken from a long sleep.

"Not Rick." Gareth spoke through his sinister smile. "Just you and me, redneck." Gareth began to pace over to Daryl, making the southerner feel uncomfortable in his own skin. He desperately searched the surrounding area for his crossbow. The only thing he had to defend himself. No such luck. He had been stripped of everything except his clothes. Daryl tried to remain calm as the cannibal leader stood in front of him, towering over him like a hunter tormenting his prey.

"Don't look so scared. I'm not going to hurt you." Gareth shook his head. "At least not yet anyway."

"What the hell happened?" Daryl asked, shuffling up slightly. He rubbed his eyes viciously and then gazed up at Gareth. The Terminus leader smiled and then knelt down. Balancing as he continued to hover over Daryl, his skinny jeans hugged every muscle in his legs tightly as an old shirt hung over his shoulders. Once perfect fitting, and now too big.

"Well... would you prefer the long version or the short version?" Gareth joked, holding the blade in an intimidating fashion, Daryl stayed on edge for every second of their conversation, and when he refused to answer that simple question, Gareth nodded and continued regardless. "They're not dead, your people. That cowboy, the chick with the sword, the kid with the hat... they're all alive as far as I can tell. That older chick, with the silver hair, she destroyed Terminus. It's all gone, there's nothing left."

Daryl smiled slightly at the thought of his group. At least they were alive, at least they were still out there somewhere. Perhaps there was a small hope that Daryl could be reunited with them.

"Unfortunately for me, that cowboy killed everyone I knew and traveled with." Gareth sighed, looking up at the night sky which was full of glistening stars, before returning his gaze to Daryl.

"It's not a big deal, really. I knew we wouldn't all survive, I just had no idea some little country sheriff would destroy everything I built from scratch."  
>"Where is he?" Daryl questioned, unmoved by Gareth's words. If he were totally honest, he was happy that Terminus had been wiped out, but he dare not say anything with no protection and a psychotic cannibal sat in front of him wielding a blade. Instead he stuck to a question he knew could not anger his captor. "Rick, I mean. The sheriff."<p>

"Ah, good question redneck." Gareth smirked, he was odd, his mood seemed to change from minute to minute. This simply backed up Daryl's assumption that Gareth was unstable. "That is what I need you for. You little group has gone off on an adventure, and you know where to." Gareth paused, reading Daryl's face.

Daryl simply stared at Gareth, unmoved by his attempts at intimidation. Of course Daryl felt uncomfortable, but that was simply because he was unarmed and way from his group. It had nothing to do with the man who stay crouched in front of him.

"Why should I tell you anything?" Daryl questioned.

"Because, you want to be reunited with them right?" Gareth nodded, agreeing with himself, almost as if he were answering for Daryl. "Yeah, you want to see your little survival crew again, and I want to kill them. So as far as I'm concerned you have two options here, redneck. I could just kill you, slice your throat open and eat you." With that, Gareth lent forward, holding the cold metal against Daryl's neck, pressing it uncomfortably against his skin. "I'm sure you would be delicious... or you can take me to where your group is going, and I can hand you over, before I kill that son of a bitch sheriff."

Daryl considered his two options. How on earth did Gareth think that he could take out the entirety of Daryl's group? Was he delusional? It certainly seemed so. As always, with any living and breathing human being, survival instinct kicked in. Anything to elongate Daryl's lifespan and give him more time to think of a way to kill the sick cannibal son of a bitch, was exactly what he was going to choose. He stayed silent though, not answering. He wanted to see what else Gareth had to say first. He wanted to be able to figure this guy out. At least he was going to try and do so.

"It's your choice." Gareth shrugged, pulling the blade away from Daryl's neck slightly. "Now, where are they going?" He questioned, a sickening smirk upon his lips.

"... Washington."

"Why Washington?" Gareth pressed further, determined to get as much out of Daryl as possible. He was going to seek revenge, no matter what it took. But Gareth was also well aware that Daryl could be lying.

"Bob was telling the truth, when he said we had a scientist with us." Daryl swallowed a breath and felt the cold steel against his skin once more. "His name is Eugene, he says he has cure for all of this, we were trying to get him to Washington, to the CDC."

"Why are you telling me this?" Gareth questioned, surprised at Daryl's honesty. He removed the knife from Daryl's neck completely, but he stayed crouched, in an awkward stare off with the redneck.

"Because I know that at some point, you're going to slip up." Daryl nodded. "If we go to Washington, which I assume we are doing... at some point you'll let your guard down, and that's when I'll kill you."

"Good luck." Gareth nodded, obviously less that impressed with Daryl's rudeness. He stood again, tucking his knife into his back pocket, he walked slowly around the back of the tree that Daryl was hunched up against, making sure his restraints were still securely fastened. "We leave tomorrow morning. I hope your friends haven't gotten too far just yet. I'm not really feeling up to a long drive."

"How the hell are you going to find them? I didn't tell you which way we were planning on going." Daryl shot back, anger coursing though his veins. He felt a tiredness overcoming his body again. He knew at that point that he must have gained some form of concussion. Thinking back to the injury, he noticed that he'd been cleaned up while he'd been out. Had Gareth done that?

"That's why you're coming with me. Partner." Gareth smiled, "and if at any point, you don't co-operate with me..." He paused, shooting Daryl a devious look. "I will not hesitate to kill you."


	2. The Road

_AN: To be totally honest, the soundtrack to Game of Thrones has been keeping me company for the duration of this chapter. For some unknown reason the music really fits the story here. Again, I always appreciate feedback, and thank you to those who have already followed and favourited this story. You are all awesome. - CSM_

**Chapter Two**  
><strong>The Road<strong>

"Wake up." Gareth seemed a fuzzy distant noise for a few moments, almost as if Daryl were in some sort of surreal lucid dream. He opened his eyes slowly to be confronted by blinding daylight. Suddenly the depressing realization set in as he looked up at his captor. Gareth grinned and shook his head slowly. "Finally! I've been trying to get you up all morning. I really did a number on you, huh?"

Daryl said nothing in response. Instead he simply moved his hands to the floor, pushing himself up slightly from his previous slumped position. As he contorted his body, he noticed that the restraints had been removed. His torso was now no longer tied to a fucking tree. The rope, however, had left a horrible mark across his lower stomach. He didn't need to see it, he could simply feel the uncomfortable burning around his waist where his restraints had been previously.

"What time is it?" He questioned, still slightly fazed from drowsiness. He sat up straight and rubbed his eyes, before standing and finding his balance.

"Fuck if know." Gareth shrugged. The smile left his face almost as quick as it had appeared. He stood still for a moment, examining his prisoner. He knew for a fact that Daryl wasn't stupid enough to try and run, hence he felt no need for constant supervision. After an awkward silence, Gareth finally began walking in the direction he had obviously just come from. Daryl noticed the previous tracks in the mud and leaves that Gareth had left. As he looked around, he noticed that all of their belongings had gone, the fire that was burning the last time he was awake had burnt out. He hesitated for a moment, contemplating his luck of survival if he were to run in the opposite direction. No weapons to protect himself and no food to keep himself going, the chances seemed slim. Once upon a time he would have taken the challenge upon himself, but in a forest unarmed against walkers? He preferred being the captor.

After a moment, he followed Gareth down the partially beaten trail. Walking through trees and spotting the odd walker lurking a little way from them. They posed no threat, and there was no need to go after them. Daryl was more concerned and interested in where his captor might be taking him. Gareth walked quickly, his pace never faltering as he wove in and out of trees and under branches. After a couple of minutes Daryl found himself stepping out onto a derelict road, the kind he was used to travelling.

Gareth walked up to a beaten up old Honda Ballard and popped the trunk, he pulled out a small hand gun, which he had already pre-loaded and tucked it into the back of his jeans. He also pulled out a small book, afterward he closed the trunk and made his way to the car hood, opening up an old map, which had red lines and crosses drawn across it. Daryl stood tentatively at the side of the road as Gareth studied the map. It wasn't that he was scared to say anything, it was that he had nothing to say. Silence seemed to be the only policy at that moment in time.

"We're not going to get much further than Cordele today." Gareth spoke, to nobody in particular. "If we do, we'll keep going until we reach Stateboro."

"Statesboro is only three hours away." Daryl stood, a slightly confused look upon his face. He made his way over to the car and opened the passenger side door. He knew for a fact he had two choices at this point. He could still run, with nothing to protect himself. Or he could simply go along with Gareth, in hopes of finding his group. The people he considered his family. The second option. while not ideal, seemed more logical. "We'll make it there before mid-day." He added, leaning against the beaten old Honda.

Gareth shot Daryl a look that spoke a thousand words of hatred. Daryl hated to admit it, but this crazy little cannibal actually had the power to intimidate him, only ever so slightly, but enough to be noticed by the redneck.

"What? You think we're just gonna drive up into Statesboro and get a hotel room for the night?" The annoyed expression on Gareth's face warped into one of sheer sarcasm. Once again a smile covered his features. "We're stopping in Cordele to get supplies, it's a small town and with any luck we'll find something worth keeping."

"Alright fine, whatever." Daryl shook his head, seating himself in the car to avoid any more disagreement. Gareth watched the southerners every move. While he seemed placid enough, he knew that he could not read Daryl's thoughts. He had to be on guard at all times. While the redneck was being co-operative now, only god knew what he would be like in a few hours.

Gareth folded up the old map and made his way to the drivers side of the car. He opened the door and sat down, after closing the door he started up the engine, hearing the roar of the vehicle, he quickly pulled out and began driving off into an unknown distance. Daryl sat quietly, watching the world pass him by as he tried to not think about the other survivors too much. This was the first time he had been totally awake since the battle at Terminus, and he refused to dwell on the rest of his group and their fate. Whatever it may have been. For now the best he could do was sit and wait for an absolution. Gareth stayed quiet and pensive too, mainly focusing on the road ahead of him. If tension could be heard, every walker for miles would be following the car that Daryl and Gareth shared.

After an hour or two of silent driving, they pulled up on a side road just north of Cordele. The town seemed to be over-run, from what Gareth could see. He killed the engine and stepped out of the vehicle. Luckily enough, there was a gas station just on the outskirts of the town. After walking for a few meters, he stopped and inspected the road ahead, before finally turning around to find Daryl already out of the car.

"There's a gas station, up ahead. We're gonna go check that out." Gareth called back to his prisoner. Daryl crossed his arms as he made his way to the front of the car and perched himself on the hood.

"And I'm just meant to go in there, with no protection?" Daryl questioned. "You're more fucking crazy that you look if you think I'm just gonna go wandering into a gas station unarmed."

"Can I trust you?" Gareth asked, he seemed genuine, although the question to Daryl came across as rhetorical. Daryl shrugged, unable to give a solid answer. If Gareth gave him a weapon, Daryl could easily shoot him in the back of the head when they were in the gas station, that would put an end to all of this before it had even begun. He could take the car and drive to Washington himself. He could find Rick and the others. He could end Gareth here with a simple pull of a trigger.

Daryl simply shrugged in response. After an awkward moment of silence, Gareth nodded to himself and made his way to the trunk of the car, pulling out a small hunting knife. He shut the trunk with a loud thud and walked back to Daryl, shoving the knife in Daryl's hand as if it were a live grenade. Daryl looked down at the sharpened blade and stood.

"It's better than nothin'." He reasoned, looking ahead at the gas station that they were about to loot. He took one step forward before he was stopped by Gareth.

"Don't forget, I'm the one with the gun." Gareth looked straight into Daryl's eyes as he spoke those words, trying to issue as much fear as he could into the Southerner. "If you try anything..."

"I got it." Daryl almost spat the words at his captor, pulling away quickly as he marked a fast pace down the abandoned road. Gareth watched the redneck walk off without consent and smiled to himself. While Daryl was a total pain in the ass, he did have some likable qualities about him that made Gareth question why Daryl was running with that group in the first place. He tried not to ponder on it too much, and instead started at a quick run to catch up with his new companion.

Gareth half expected them to walk in silence, and for the most part they did. Until Daryl finally broke the unwaivered silence between the two of them.  
>"You always had a fetish for eating people?" He questioned, holding the blade close. He saw no reason to beat around the bush now. He had questioned and really there was no point in keeping them to himself. Gareth did not answer, at least for a moment, and then he spoke.<p>

"Of course not." Gareth sighed, he saw no reason not to open up to Daryl, after all... he was going to kill that son of a bitch anyway. All in due time. "It's not like I just decided to start eating people."

"Well what is it like then?" Daryl questioned, like an annoying child. Gareth shook his head in slight annoyance.

"Look I really don't want to have this conversation with you. I don't want twenty-one questions from you. I just want to get in here, get out and get back on the road." Gareth continued walking, his pistol now in his hand as they approached the abandoned gas station.

"Fine, so ask me a question." Daryl pressed even further. He had no reason for doing this, he simply wanted to see how far he could push his new captor. He wanted to see how much leverage Gareth would really give him, despite his threats.

Gareth stopped dead in his tracks and shook his head.

"I'm not interested in you. Really I'm not." Gareth laughed to himself, he looked at the gas station and then down at his pistol. "I don't want to sit here and play games with you. I just want to fucking eat and keep going to Washington. You are nothing more to me than a captor. I'm not fucking interested in knowing anything about you, and you shouldn't be interested in me."

Daryl said nothing in response, instead he continued walking. Persistant in his approach but still unsatisfied with his answer. He wanted to know more about Gareth. From a captive point of view but also from someone who was simply interested in the mind of a cannibal. It wasn't entirely clear to Daryl, why Gareth was giving him such an easy time. For the most part of his stay in Terminus, Daryl was kept in a train carriage, almost like an animal being raised for slaughter. So why was Gareth being so leanient with him now? There was something else, something more to Gareth than what simply met the eye, and for some reason Daryl found himself attracted and intrigued by that secret.

They had a long road ahead of them, and this was only the first stop of many. As soon as Daryl reached the door to the gas station, he raised his knife, ready to attack anything that lurked behind those doors. Gareth was fast on his tail, he stood next to Daryl, gun raised and ready to shoot down any walkers who tried to get in their way. It was almost a natural instinct to work together when it came to walkers. No matter what had happened in their past, where the walking dead were concerned, humans would always naturally stick together.

Daryl looked to Gareth and recieved a quick nod of approval. He quickly opened the door and stepped inside, gauging the room for any threats that may have been posed, while it was eerily quiet at first, soon the humming sounds of the dead walking filled the air.

This would definitely not be an easy ride.


	3. Better Than He Could

_AN: A few of you have been wondering why I named this story as I did. I always name my stories after the song that inspired me when I was writing up the basic plot. Some of my fanfic friends already know that as we've talked about it... this story is named after the wonderful song by My Chemical Romance. One line in particular... "For all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me, for all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me." - Go ahead and listen to it if you have the time! Again a great thank you to those who follow and review this story. I really did not expect it to get a positive response, if a response at all. So thank you!  
><em>_(and yes, I did cry during the latest episode of TWD. I have really taken a disliking to Rick now... I'll give you guys one guess as to why.) -CSM_

**Chapter Three**  
><strong>Better Than He Could<strong>

As the night air chilled even more so, Daryl tried to bundle himself up as best he could. He used a retired old black sweatshirt to cover his body while the blistering cold threatened him. As the moonlight flooded the area that surrounded them, he attempted to heat himself up by shuffling slightly closer to the fire that burned. The silence between Daryl and Gareth was deafening. Daryl was used to talk. With Rick and the others, talk was what they did. Talking kept them sane. With Gareth, that was not the matter. The cannibal seemed more than content to keep himself company. Daryl continued to pick at the rationed portion of food they had been able to scavenge that evening, although hunger was not his prominent emotion at that point. A sense of missed belonging filled him. It hurt, to not wake up and see his group surrounding him. He hated not waking up to see Rick, Carol, Glenn and even Carl.

"You know, I'm surprised you haven't tried anything stupid yet." Gareth interrupted Daryl's quiet contemplation. He looked across the flames at his prisoner. His eyes baring holes into Daryl's skin, or so it felt that way. Daryl looked up for a moment, acknowledging that Gareth had said something, yet not bothering to really listen. He had no answer for his captor. Instead he stayed quiet. Previous contemplation thrown to the back of his mind now.

That's fine, if you don't want to talk." Gareth shrugged. He sat with his legs crossed, toying with a machete they had found during their scavenging earlier in the day.

"I know I said I wasn't interested in talking, but one thing I do miss is the pointless conversations... You know I used to have those a lot, with the people at Terminus." He paused, shooting another look at Daryl. He still seemed less than interested. His eyes stayed focused on the flames as he continued to toy with his food. Gareth smiled to himself "They were so dull. I mean just because everyone around us is dead, why does that mean we can't have a civilized conversation?"  
>Another awkward silence followed. Daryl took a deep breath, considering his response. After taking another mouthful of food, he sighed.<p>

"What do you wanna talk about?" Slightly annoyed. he did it, not for friendship. He knew that his captor wasn't capable of such a feat. No, he simply replied because he knew if he didn't, Gareth would just continue talking. Tormenting, it was.

"I don't know." Gareth shrugged, in his usual nonchalant manner. "Sometimes I just need to communicate to feel human, you know? But I really am surprised. I mean you could have killed me already..." He bit his bottom lip, glancing at the fire which captivated Daryl's attention. After a slightly pause he returned his gaze to Daryl. "why haven't you tried?"

"Because you're my ride back to my group." Daryl answered, almost too fast. He saw no reason to lie. They both had intentions that led them to the same place, and Gareth was honest about his. "I'll only kill you if you stop being useful to me. Trust me I've considered it." Daryl laughed to himself, almost mockingly. If someone had posed a threat to him, usually he would not miss a beat in killing them. But Daryl was tired. Tired of fighting, and tired of living. If he were honest, he would admit to being borderline suicidal. But being depressed got you no where in this world, so he pushed on.

"You know I like you redneck." Gareth nodded. He was playing a dangerous game. He knew that Daryl was vulnerable at this point. He knew that if he played his cards right, he could bend Daryl's views. He could warp Daryl into a man just like himself. "...You're a straight talker, none of that sugarcoated bullshit that everyone is so fond of these days. Yeah, you're a lot like me in that respect."

"I'm nothing like you."

"You keep thinking that."

Another silence, filled by only the sounds of crackling fire.

"Tomorrow, we'll head to Savannah." Gareth changed the subject, realizing he may have hit a nerve with Daryl. He had planted the seed in Daryl's mind. Perhaps they were similar, in some respects. "It's a little out of the way, but it's a big city. We'll probably be able to find something a bit more useful than a can of minced meat and some band aids." Gareth sighed, directing his vision to their unsatisfying haul from earlier in the day.

"Whatever." Daryl refused to dwell on Gareth's words. He knew it would do him no good. He threw the now empty can to the floor and stood. "I'm going to sleep, wake me up when you want to leave."

He walked slowly over towards the car that had been parked just off the main bend. It was a long slope, and from this point they could both see and hear anything that may have been lurking. Daryl used an old blanket to cover the cold ground, he stayed huddled against the car, attempting to capture any warmth that he could from the fire. As he closed his eyes, distant memories of his previous life filled his mind. He remembered those long lost. He remembered Merle, and felt a gut-wrenching pain. Even after a time, it still hurt to think about his now deceased brother.

"How did you find them?" Gareth's voice penetrated Daryl's thoughts. It angered him. "Your group I mean. Did you know them before all of this happened?"  
>He refused to answer. Instead he kept his eyes closed. It was obvious to both of them that Daryl was not asleep, but he wanted to make a point. He was no longer interested in talking. He wanted to spend some time with his own thoughts.<p>

"We made it out of our little town. My Mom, my brother and I." Gareth started talking, with no invitation from his prisoner. Daryl sighed, trying to ignore the cannibal. It was no use however, he slowly opened his eyes, and watched as Gareth spoke to nobody in particular. "My Dad came too, but he was the first to go... I still miss him, I guess. He was a total jackass to my Mom so I felt kind of relieved when they took him out. So then it was just us three, and we created a safe place for people to go." Gareth nodded to himself, turning to face Daryl who's eyes were now firmly planted on his captor. "You ruined that, you and your people, and I still haven't forgiven any of you. My family are all dead, thanks to you. But it's okay for you, you don't have to worry. You've got a big group, one to keep you safe right? What have I got?" Gareth almost spat his words. Anger boiled to the surface as he reminisced about his family. His emotions ran like hot and cold. Totally unpredictable and uncontrollable.

"You don't know anything about me, so stop acting like you do." Daryl replied, a slight sense of anger filling his voice too. Sure, Gareth had lost family at the hands of Daryl's group. But who hadn't lost family in this messed up world. "Stop acting so high and fuckin' mighty. You're just like everyone else out here. Someone who has been lucky enough to survive up to this point."

"I'm being a human here redneck. I'm talking to you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"You're not talking to me, you're talking at me." Daryl shook his head, turning over to face the other way. He was done with Gareth. Done with this day in fact.

Tensions were beginning to run high between them, and he had no time to deal with it. He wanted to sleep, to pretend his reality was some sort of warped dream, only for a few hours. He didn't want another fight on his hands. He didn't want to have to protect himself any longer than he absolutely had to.

"I see you, you know." Gareth continued. Now that he had started, he had no plans to stop. "I've been watching all of your little gang... but you. You're different." He smiled as his words began to have an effect on the redneck. Perhaps this was a good thing. Perhaps he could use it to his advantage. Maybe Daryl wasn't as useless and Gareth had originally though.

"A couple hours ago you told me you had nothing to say to me. You said you weren't interested in me." Daryl mumbled under his breath, still refusing the face Gareth.

"Perhaps I am. A man can change his mind can't he?" Gareth sighed, the smile leaving his face. He stood slowly, pressing his foot down on the fire to make sure it burnt out completely. "Yeah, you're different to the others. You're a lone wolf and a survivor. I can tell just by looking at you, you've seen your fair share of bloodshed right?" Gareth nodded, he continued to watch over Daryl. When he received no response, he laughed " ... I thought so. You could have been one of us you know. You could have been safe, but you rebelled because the sheriff told you to. Take a look at where it's gotten you. He's gone, and you're with me, as my prisoner... and yet, you're still planning on running back to him when we get to DC."

At that, Daryl's brain awoke. Gareth had hit a nerve. Daryl tried to shake off whatever was now filling his mind. Perhaps Gareth was right? Really what good had Daryl found since finding Rick? He had almost been killed on several occasions, and now Rick had just left. He hadn't even tried to save the person he called his brother. Daryl felt uncomfortable as Gareth's words had impact on his thoughts. He tried his best to ignore it, but over the coming hours he would ponder over it. It would drive him insane.

"Wake up Daryl, stop chasing after someone who can't protect you." Gareth spoke slowly, his voice penetrating Daryl's thoughts yet again. He was like a drug, as a person you had no control over his affect on you. Perhaps that's how Gareth had managed to persuade so many people to stay at Terminus. He was a snake in the grass. One that knew how persuasion worked and perfected it to such a degree that he could enforce it on anyone he passed. Daryl was a task thought. He was not easily persuaded or mislead. Previously, Gareth had not wanted to involve himself in such a task, but now, he was interested in the redneck. He wanted to see just how far Daryl's loyalty went.

"Why are you telling me this?" Daryl shot back, turning over to look Gareth in the eye. He refused to let his words sink in. He knew what Gareth was about, and he was not as easily swayed.

"...Let's just say, its from the goodness of my heart." Gareth smiled. He turned to face the other way. Walking over to a tall tree at which he would sleep during the day. He preferred to sleep sitting up, especially when on the road. It meant a light sleep, on that he could easily be woken from. One that was safer to partake in, when walkers were in such very close proximity.

"and I guess you think you could protect me?" Daryl questioned, a smile upon his face as he considered such a stupid ideology.

"Better than he could." Gareth shrugged. He sat down slowly, leaning against the tree that woud serve as a bed for the night. He kept his eyes on Daryl for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

"Night Daryl." Gareth spoke, almost as an instruction. Daryl watched his captor closely, before he finally turned around and closed his eyes. Laying back down on the matt which barely made a difference to the hard ground beneath. His head buzzed with activity now, which annoyed him so. Gareth was insane, but he spoke some truths. Daryl contemplated their conversation, and repeated it over and over in his head until the words became a blur.

_'You're a straight talker.' _  
><em>'I'm being human, isn't that what you wanted?'<em>  
><em>'You're a lone wolf, and a survivor.'<em>  
><em>'Look where it's gotten you'<em>  
><em>'Wake up Daryl.'<em>  
><em>'Better than he could'<em>  
><em>'Better than he could...'<em>


	4. Savannah

_Inspiration and feel are running high tonight. I'm glad to see that those of you reading are thoroughly enjoying the story. Someone did message me to ask why they haven't 'done the deed' yet. The reason being is that I want to keep them as close to their characters as I possibly can, which means a slow build up. Once again, thank you for your kind reviews! - CSM_

**Chapter Four**  
><strong>Savannah<strong>

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" Daryl questioned, his body ached after the long walk they had just endured. As they entered Savannah, they passed rows of beautifully flourished houses. Now long forgotten and unkempt. Daryl kept the pace, an empty duffel bag over his shoulder. As he held the strap across his chest, he began to miss his home comfort. His crossbow.

"Positive." Gareth replied simply, increasing his pace slightly so that he could pass Daryl. He kept his head up, staying aware of his surroundings. He held his handgun protectively as they passed yet more houses, and still no sign of any walkers.

"I feels like we've been walking for hours." Daryl sighed. Watching his captor as he continued to walk down the long paved road. One or two cars remained, all of which were now covered with thick dust. Yet more houses, yet more abandoned homes. It seemed like they were walking down some sort of warped time tunnel.

Finally, reaching the end of the long stretch of road, they turned a corner. Gareth smiled to himself as he took in the building he had been looking for. Outside, a tall set of stairs led up to large entry doors. There was a long stretched parking lot outside, once filled with people going about their daily routine, and now littered with abandoned lives and disused army vehicles. Daryl followed the cannibal, unsure of what to expect. He knew they were on a supply run, but for the most far he hadn't asked any more questions. Not since the night before, at least.

_Better than he could._

Once again the words echoed in Daryl's mind, Gareth's voice penetrating his thoughts. He tried to ignore it, to carry on about their run and not think too much about it. However, every time he looked at Gareth, he couldn't help but second guess the cannibal's words from the night before. What exactly had he meant by that?

As they approached the tall grey building, it seemed to tower over the city even more so than it previously had. Vines that were once well kept now snaked up the side of the building. Bodies lay outside, some half eaten by the walking dead. Some who had been unfortunate enough to turn, only to be killed not long after. These remained, and as they passed, Daryl and Gareth did not give a second thought to the people who had not been as lucky as themselves.

"I don't like this." Daryl shook his head, trying to keep his voice as low as possible, as to not attract any unwanted walkers. "It doesn't seem right, y'know? They're all dead, there's none left. There's _always_ some left."

"Chances are the military managed to wipe out whatever was left before the outbreak became too bad." Gareth stopped just at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around to face the road on which they had just traveled. He smirked to himself as he watched the fog lift slowly. "There you go, there's a few over there. Why don't you run along and play with them?"

"Yeah, right." Daryl laughed, keeping his voice in a hushed tone. "Trust me, you're not going in that building all on your own. You're not stupid enough to do that. You don't know what's behind them walls. For all you know the entire city population could be in there."

"I'm more than happy to take my chances." Gareth smirked, almost sarcastically. He checked his gun over, making sure it was fully loaded before he took off the safety. "Besides, I've made it this far right?"

Without a second thought, he turned and made his way up the tall staircase, avoiding whatever corpses he could as he took the staircase two steps at a time. Daryl shook his head in annoyance and turned to take a look at the few walkers that remained in this desolate city. Pathetic, it was. Watching these 'people' wander aimlessly. He adjusted the duffel bag strap and then followed Gareth's lead, making his way towards the grey building.

As they entered, the first thing they noticed was the inky blackness. The lack of electricity was going to be a problem here. Daryl quickly gauged the room, he noticed a reception desk with folders and pieces of paper scattered across it. It was almost as if the place had been ransacked. A woman in light blue overalls lay in front of the desk, he body twisted and warped into a disgusting angle, chunks of her body torn away. Chairs also lined the darkened room. As well as vending machines, now empty, of course.

"Where do we start?" Daryl questioned. "I don't know shit about hospitals. I only went to one once, when I broke my arm."

Gareth seemed to ignore Daryl's comment, instead he stepped forward quickly, holding his pistol out for protection. Ready to shoot anything that may have been lurking. He checked both corridors that spined off from the main lobby, and then gave Daryl the all clear by lowering his gun.

"I used to work here." Gareth answered, almost automatically. He quickly made his way to the reception desk. Daryl watched tentatively as his captor opened the top draw and searched it quickly. With no luck, he search the second, third and fourth. Before finally giving up.

"What were you, a doctor or something?" Daryl questioned, intrigued by this new piece of information. He had never expected Gareth to be the type who would hold such a 'normal' job. Then again, he had never seen Gareth as anything more than a killer.

"No, I wasn't a doctor." He shook his head. He continued his hunt, moving onto a tall unit of filing cabinets. He periodically checked each one. "I worked for a company who secured this building. I was a patrol guard."

"I didn't know hospitals needed security." Daryl continued, watching still as Gareth continued his exhausting hunt for something. The redneck contemplated what he might be looking for. Information perhaps? But why?

"They didn't, until the outbreak." Gareth explained. "I worked for a security firm here in Savannah. When the outbreak started, they turned this hospital into a quarantine area. Then the soldiers they sent it, started getting sick. They needed someone else, so they came to me."

"Surprisingly honest." Daryl commented. He too began looking, for something and nothing. He picked up some of the folders which lay scattered, and opened one at random. Curiosity mostly. He read a few lines about a patient who had been admitted for quarantine, before he lent again the desk and allowed Gareth to continue with his search. After a moment of silence, Gareth finally slammed the last draw shut and stood up, facing his captor.

"What does it matter now?" Gareth questioned, a serious look upon his face. He captured Daryl's attention. Daryl placed the folder back down on the desk and watched as Gareth toyed with a small set of keys.

"I mean, really. What does it matter?" Gareth pushed further, yet another rhetorical question that Daryl refrained from answering. "So I was a patrol officer before all of this shit happened. What does it matter if I tell you that? It's history, it doesn't change anything today. It's not like a trade secret. If you know what I did before all this, it really doesn't change anything."

When Gareth noticed the scolded look on Daryl's face, he felt a slight twinge of guilt. He was definitely hard on Daryl, for good reason. He was hard on a lot of people, but suddenly seeing that he had put Daryl in an insecure place, caused a small bit of guilt to rise to the surface. Small, but not unnoticeable. Gareth took a deep breath before he tucked the keys in his back pocket. He made his way back around to the front of the reception desk. As he held his handgun out again, he turned to Daryl who was following behind him closely.

"What did you do?" Gareth questioned, catching Daryl slightly off guard. "Before all of this?"

"...I fixed cars."

"Well, each to their own." Gareth shrugged, obviously less that impressed with Daryl's career choices. He turned to face the long hallway, holding his gun firmly as he led the way down the darkened corridor. Some doors lay slightly ajar, and instead of checking them, Gareth continued walking. Daryl remembered back to when he was with Rick. Rick would have insisted that they check every room. Gareth seemed more reckless though. He wanted to get in and out, before anything had time to even think about attacking them. Although Daryl wanted to question their plan, he stayed quiet. Taking his own advice, he contemplated the fact that they may indeed be walkers lurking in the shadows. He followed behind Gareth slowly, holding his blade with a firm grip and keeping himself on guard at all times.

They managed to reach the end of the corridor without issue. Once there, they found a large hall, one that was obviously used as a sorting area for the infected. Beds lined the walls, with splatters of blood staining the once hospital white sheets. Corpses lay, inanimate on the floor. Daryl kept a keen eye on those, since he knew they were liking to move should they hear the unfamiliar sound of movement. Both moving slowly, and sticking together, Gareth and Daryl traced the wall. They came to a door, and Gareth slowly opened it.

As they stepped inside, they noticed yet more corpses, however this time, one was very animated. A walker lay on the set of stairs leading down to a lower floor. Her arms outstretched at the sound and smell of a living breathing human. Disturbing growls came from her mouth as her teeth clicked instinctively. Gareth held his gun up as she began to approach them.

"I got it." Daryl stepped forward, quickly taking her out with a swift stab to the cranium. Her now limp body fell to the floor and Daryl stepped back. He nodded to Gareth who continued up the set of stairs, Daryl following closely behind.

They managed to make it to their destination unscathed, only coming across a handful of walkers in the process which were all easy enough to take out. Once they had found the room, Gareth quickly looked through the set of keys he had retrieved earlier. Finding the correct one, he pushed it into the keyhole and turned, unlocking the door with a satisfactory 'click'. As they both stepped inside, Daryl found himself overwhelmed by what he saw. Colt pistols, Smith and Wessons, Glock, Walther, AK's and M14's lined the walls of the small storage room.

"Fuck... How has nobody found this place yet?" Daryl questioned, looking at the various rifles and handguns on offer to them. He took off the duffel bag and placed it on the ground. Gareth wasted no time in opening it and filling it with as many guns and as much ammunition as he could.

"Because nobody knew it was here. It was for military use, in case the outbreak got too bad... which obviously it did." Gareth shrugged. He picked up a brand new Glock pistol and held it at arms length, examining the metal and weight. "Hey, what do you think? Should I use this one to kill Rick?"

Daryl looked at Gareth, with hatred in his eyes. He was taunting Daryl and he knew damn well that was what he was doing. Gareth turned to see the maddened expression on his new travelling companions face and laughed.

"Come on, I'm just kidding." Gareth shook his head, placing the pistol into the duffel bag before he examined the guns on offer yet again. He quickly grabbed an AK-47 which a fine black mental finish and held it out to Daryl. "This one would be way better. Just... _pow_, dead. Bye bye Sheriff."

"Stop it." Daryl tried to protect his anger, which was quickly rising to the surface. He felt a tight knot in his chest when he thought of his group, when he thought of Rick. It was not loosened at all by Gareth's sudden tormenting nature. Daryl had to fight back to urge to take a swing at his captor. He had to remind himself, Gareth was the one with the gun.

"Or what?" Gareth grinned, excitement running away with him. He loved the idea of having such control and power over someone. "What about this one?" He walked across the room and picked up a M14 which bragged a fine light wooden finish. "I've always liked rifles, they can do a lot of damage. What do you think? Should I use this one to kill your best friend? It'd give you quite the show."

Without giving it a second thought, Daryl lunged himself at Gareth, throwing as many punches as he could. The majority made contact and he felt a slight sense of release as he took out his anger on Gareth. Punch after punch he threw as he toppled on top of his captor. Gareth, however small his frame may have been, was fast and agile. He managed to wrestle his way on top of Daryl. pinning the rednecks hands on the cold hard tiled floor as he lingered over him.

"I told you not to try anything stupid." He warned, a slightly psychotic smile on his lips. Daryl wrestled with his captor, attempted to break free from the hold Gareth had on him, but the cannibal was strong, despite his appearance. After a minute, they both stayed silent, panting as the short but rough dispute took its toll. Gareth slowly removed his hands from Daryl's, giving his captor a slightly sense of freedom. His first mistake.

Daryl seized the opportunity and pushed Gareth off of him. He cannibal fell to the floor with a thud. Daryl quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed Gareth by the collar of his t-shirt, ripping it only slightly. He pulled his captor to his feet and then pushed his body hard against the metal frame which held the various firearms they had been looking for previously. Now just inches apart, Daryl looked Gareth deep in the eyes.

"Don't play that game with me." Daryl mumbled, anger still flooding his voice. He held Gareth's t-shirt in his hands, tightly clenching at the fabric as they continued their awkward encounter. So close, that their bodies were almost touching. Both felt it was a necessity to move away from each other, this was an invasion of person space. However, neither made the attempt. Instead they stayed close, Daryl's eyes focusing on nothing but his captors. A long lost feeling of connection seemed to attack them both unexpectedly. The need for belonging. Something both of them had long lost. It was strange, and surreal to look at each other and feel something other than hatred.

Before they had time to truly dwell on the situation, a distant groaning noise filled the air, and another, followed by other. Soon, it sounded as if the entire population of Savannah were in that hallway. Daryl quickly released Gareth's shirt, despite a small niggling sound at the back of his mind telling him not to. He grabbed a Glock M8 Pistol from the cabinet just next to the door and opened it ever so slowly. As he peeked outside of the room, he noticed one or two walkers heading their direction.

Gareth on the other hand, could not take his eyes off of Daryl for a moment. This redneck had sparked an emotion in him which, for once, wasn't negative. Once the realization had set in, he quickly zipped up the duffel bag, and decided to make a run for it. He could hear the moans that echoed down the corridor and the horrible stench of the undead, a hoard was fast approaching.

"Move, come on!" He yelled at Daryl, before opening the door and pushing the redneck outside. Daryl looked awestruck for a moment as he took in the scene before him. The corridor they had previously walked down was now infested with walking corpses. Gareth left the room too with the duffel bag securely over his shoulder. He grabbed Daryl's arm and led them both in the opposite direction. He knew the quickest way to the fire exit, and he needed to protect not only himself, but his prisoner as well.

As they set off at a fast pace, they made their way down a long winding corridor. Left, right, down two flights of stairs and through a nurses station. They made their way outside, quickly sealing the emergency exit door behind them as they continued at a run across a long stretch of grass. Once used as a public garden, and now a graveyard for walkers.

Quickly, they made it through a large gathering of trees and to the other side, where yet a more fields were available to roam. Gareth stopped suddenly, he lent cautiously against a tree and attempted to catch his breath, he angrily threw the duffel bag from his shoulder and to the floor. Daryl stopped too, leaning over and supporting himself as he caught his breath.

"_The military managed to wipe out whatever was left_..." Daryl panted, looking over at Gareth who too, was very short of breath and slightly shaken up. "Fucking genius."

After a moments break, they both stood and gave each other a look that spoke a thousand words. They were clearly both thankful that they had made it out alive, but also an understanding of 'I wont forget what happened back there'. Gareth again, stayed silent. He picked up the duffel bag and secured it over his shoulder once again. He set off at a slow pace across the wooded and grassy area, quickly followed by his captor. Luckily, Gareth knew a shortcut back to where they had left their car. He would get them back their easily enough.

Meanwhile, just out of sight in the treeline. A woman stood tall, watching the two men as they walked together, almost in harmony. She sighed and kept a close eye on the two survivors before they were out of sight. As she turned, something caught the sunlight. A long blade in which she carried on her back glistened as she returned to her group. With new information for her fellow survivors.


	5. Things Rarely Change

_I totally dressed up at Rick this Halloween. I was going to go as Daryl but I couldn't find a crossbow. Anyway people knew who I was, so that was cool. :) - CSM_

**Chapter Five**  
><strong>Things Rarely Change<strong>

Gareth and Daryl had been travelling on the road together for a few days now. While they had started off hating the sight of each other, now they had grown a mutual tolerance for one another. Something still far from friendship, but something that wasn't hatred none the less. After escaping Savannah, they began their hike back towards the car. As they passed a towering home at the end of a street, they noticed that it had been securely boarded up. However it showed no signs of life. Searching it quickly and tentatively, they managed to find a few more medical supplies, food to keep them going for at least a week, and a few bottles of unopened water. The water was a god send. At least it felt like it came from the heavens when they opened it and drank as much as they could on a particularly hot day in Georgia.

Previously, they had planned to drive further in land and stop in Allendale. However, since finding enough things to keep them going, they decided to bypass the small town and head straight for the outskirts of Columbia County. For the majority of the few hours that seemed to fly past, they drove in silence. Daryl contemplated where his group may have been at this point. Perhaps they were already well on their way to Washington, perhaps they weren't very far ahead at all? He considered what he would say to Rick once reunited. He wondered who was still left, perhaps not everybody made it out alive?

He found himself watching tall blurs of green fly past the window as they sped down a country lane. Gareth's driving reminded Daryl of Merle's. Erratic, unsafe and completely terrifying. Although those words would usually put someone off getting into a car, Daryl welcomed it. At one point during their drive, just as they reached Waynesboro, he closed his eyes and lent his head back on the less that comfortable car seat. For a moment, he could imagine the sounds of 'Florida Georgia Line' filling the car, while his brother Merle sipped eagerly at a can of beer. With one hand on the wheel, his eyes on the road and his mouth running a mile a minute. He missed those days.

He must have fallen asleep, thinking about his brother. Because when he opened his eyes, it was already dark out. Gareth looked both tired and determined, his eyes focused only on the road and nothing else.

"Shit, how long have I been out?" Daryl asked, stretching his body and limbs. He had to admit, he felt slightly better after his impromptu nap. Gareth glanced over at Daryl and shrugged slightly.

"I don't know, maybe a couple hours?" He continued to drive, noticing a sign for Augusta he began to slow the car slightly. They were less than a few mile away now. The road they traveled was still surrounded by trees. Daryl watched cautiously as they drove through inky blackness.

"Are we gonna set up camp out here? It's gotta be safer than going into the city. It might be overrun." Daryl considered. He kept his voice low, as if it had any effect of whether or not walkers could hear them. Surely if there were any walkers lurking in the wood, they would have emerged at the sound of the car engine.

"Yeah, I think so." Gareth nodded in agreement. Daryl was right, the town could possibly be overrun, and it would be a stupid idea to attempt entering it in the dark.

Just as they decided to speed up the engine slightly, they noticed two bodies moving cautiously towards the car along the side of the road. They assumed it was just a couple of walkers, attracted to the sound of the car engine. As they drove closer however, they noticed these walkers were moving a little bit too fast. In fact, they were running. They were waving their arms, attempting to flag down the car that Gareth and Daryl sat in.

"Survivors." Daryl commented, finally noticing the rucksacks these two people held on their backs. They looked dreadful. Both were covered in layers of sweat and dirt. They were panting heavily. Both were male, one perhaps the same age as Daryl, with slicked black hair and a small frame. The other man that was with him, was shorter and a lot younger. Perhaps his son. They both stopped when they noticed Gareth slowing to snails pace.

Gareth killed the engine, and opened the car door to step outside. He checked that he had his pistol tucked away should these survivors cause any issues. Daryl noticed this movement and hopped out of the car too, assuming they may help these people. Or even join forces. There was always strength in numbers, that was what Daryl had learnt from Rick.

"Are you two okay? Did you just come out of Augusta?" Gareth questioned, seeming genuinely concerned. He made his way to the front of the car and questioned the two men. The oldest of the two managed to catch his breath and he shook his head.

"Ya'll don't want to go there. It's heavily overrun, we barely made it out alive." Daryl immediately noticed this man's southern drawl. It must have been from Arizona or a bordering state. They were a long way from home. The tall man quickly looked over both Gareth and Daryl and decided to ask them a very simple question. "Ya'll don't got any food to spare do ya? It's just the boy here hasn't eaten for two days. I don't know how much longer he can cope."

"Yeah, I'm sure we can spare you something." Daryl nodded, his kindness getting the better of him. He made his way to the back of the car, opening the back door he grabbed a couple of cans of food and two bottles of water. Once he had handed them over to the two strangers, they couldn't stop thanking him.

"Ya'll just saved our lives." He smiled. "We're so grateful. Thank you."

Daryl gave them a quick nod as if to say, 'don't mention it'. However, he also noticed that Gareth had gone eerily quiet. He was watching the two men intently, however they hadn't seemed to notice. Daryl did not like the look in Gareth's face at all. He decided to stay quiet though, to see what else Gareth might have to say. Sure enough, after a long enough silence, the Terminus leader spoke.

"Where are you boys heading?" He tried to keep his gaze away from the two men, a devious smile crossed his face as the survivors began unraveling and telling Gareth the ins and outs of their travels thus far.

"Are you bit? I mean, you said it was overrun... you didn't get bit did you?"

"No sir, clean as a whistle." The man nodded in appreciation. "Those things didn't stand a chance against us. We're too fast for 'em you see." Gareth took in the man's words as he spoke, he nodded back, the smile not leaving his lips. Daryl knew what was coming, he tensed as he watched Gareth's hand move to behind his back. It was almost like de ja vu. Before Daryl could say anything to stop it, Gareth had already pulled his piece and aimed it at the older man. Before he had but a second to plead for his life, Gareth pulled the trigger and watched as the older gentleman fell to the floor, lifeless. A red hole in the middle of his forehead was now seeping blood onto the street. The young boy turned, screamed and began running. He had no idea where he was running too but he knew he had to get away from the psychotic man who had just shot his father. Tears streaming down his face, he tried his best to conceal himself in the treeline. Gareth watched for a moment, seeing the young mans shadow move quickly. What happened next, left Daryl's stomach in knots.

Gareth aimed the gun, and yet another shot fired. The boy fell to the floor with a light thud. He too was dead.

"Not fast enough." Gareth muttered under his breath. He looked down at the body in front of him and shook his head. "Shame, really."

Daryl stood, half disgusted, half immoral. He should have done something to stop Gareth. His mind plagued with guilt almost the second the shot had been fired. He knew it was coming, he could see it a mile away. He should have done something, anything. Instead he simply stood there and watched an innocent survivor suffer a death which was unjust and uncalled for.

As Gareth made his way to the car, and pulled a hatchet from the backseat. Daryl did nothing but stare at the lifeless body in front of him. That could have very easily been him. No matter if Gareth had become honest with Daryl or not, he was still a cold blooded killer. He felt no remorse when it came to taking the lives of the innocent living. It took a moment for that to sink into Daryl's skin. He watched mindlessly as Gareth went to work, bringing the sharp blade down on this man's limb time after time until his forearm simply fell away. Blood, tendons and bones swiped across the road as Gareth took the limb to the car, throwing it nonchalantly into the trunk. He slammed it shut and wiped his hands on his jeans.

For the following days, Daryl could not get the scene out of his head. The innocent survivor plagued his dreams whenever he did manage to sleep. Not to mention the thought of Gareth cooking that meat on a fire they had constructed the night that followed. He had even offered a piece to Daryl, who politely shook his head. Prior to being asked, he was involving himself in a tin a food, trying to keep his mind anywhere but the fire on which a human limb was being cooked. After being offered a piece though, he had completely lost his appetite and ended up crawling into the backseat of the car to take a nap.

Daryl had known that Gareth was like this, it wasn't a shock. It was more the thought of having trusted this man ever so slightly, only to be hit with cold hard reality. There was no changing a person such as that. Daryl agreed with himself to try and not focus on what had happened. Instead he quietly chiseled away at a piece of wood, attempting to create something useful while they sat and waited for the sun to rise a few nights after the incident.

"I know why you're being so quiet." Gareth spoke, almost suddenly. He watched the fire intently as he sat on a wide tree stump. Daryl looked up curiously. He was interested to see what Gareth had to say. He wanted to hear Gareth's explanation. However, what he received was not an explanation, but a statement.

"A man's gotta eat." Gareth shrugged.

and that marked the end of their conversation.


	6. Tension

_AN: First of all, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review this story thus far. I really had only intended on writing this to feed my own slash fiction addiction as I always thought there was a lack of slash fiction in the Walking Dead fandom involving Daryl. Any who, I am really glad to see that others are enjoying my writing, it makes everything a whole lot more fun! - CSM_

**Chapter 6  
>Tension<strong>

As the sun began to set on yet another exhausting day, the two survivors decided to set up camp at another new location. After a long drive from the city of Augusta, Gareth and Daryl had found themselves at Rock Hill, just on the outskirts of Charlotte, North Carolina. Unfortunately for both of them, the car that had got them this far decided to break down just a few miles out. Originally, Daryl had hopped out of the car, and intended to pop the hood to see what he could do to fix it. However, with the sun setting fast and night time quickly approaching, Gareth made the executive decision of walking the rest of the way. He had been to Rock Hill before, and therefore knew a good place where they could rest for the night.

Daryl opened the door to the backseat and packed up their supplies. He handed a bag to Gareth and slammed the car door shut, now leaving it on the side of the road. Gareth led the way, holding his ever faithful pistol to his side as they walked at a decent pace down the abandoned side road. They only crossed the odd walker, as the majority of them seemed to still be wandering the wood aimlessly.

The further they walked, the quicker night seemed to fall upon them. As they reached the end of the road, Gareth continued their unwavering silence and led Daryl though an open trail. It wound through the dense wood but eventually they emerged on top of a rocky canyon. Below, Charlotte sat infested with the living dead. The only light they saw came from the night sky, it was clear that night. From the top of Rock Hill they had a fairly decent view of the different constellations.

Daryl perched himself on the edge of the cliff, It wasn't particularly steep, although they were still considerably high up. It was however, steep enough that walkers would not be able to scale it if they tried. Gareth saw Daryl making himself comfortable, and decided to perch himself on a particularly awkward shaped rock. As always he did it with such ease. Once settled, he began rooting through their supplies.

"Looks like we'll have to make a run into Charlotte as soon as day breaks." He commented, noticing the severe lack of food they had. Of course they were still well stocked when it came to guns and ammunition. "Food supplies are short, our best bet is heading down when it's daylight."

"I'll go by myself." Daryl answered under his breath, a bite to his words. He was now attempting to busy himself with the piece of wood which had kept his attention for the past few days. He pulled his knife out and began chiseling away again. Gareth looked over to Daryl, since he had not excepted much of a response. "You don't need to come with me. It's not like you need it." He added, refusing to look in Gareth's direction.

Another awkward silence fell upon them. One that had been present for the past few days in fact. So much so, it could hardly be called awkward any more. Gareth watched Daryl with bated breath, expecting yet more harsh words to tumble out of the redneck's mouth. When Daryl stayed quiet, Gareth smiled slyly and shook his head, letting out a light laugh as he did so. Just as he opened his mouth to say something in response, he was quickly interrupted.

"Ya'll didn't have to kill them." Daryl commented. Gareth noticed the harsh tone to Daryl's voice. This was the first time his captor has spoken about the incident since it happened. "They were innocent y'know. They didn't do nothing to you, they didn't hurt you. They were just trying to get by like us."

"Daryl, nobody is innocent in this life." Gareth responded coolly. He noticed Daryl's use of the word 'us'. As if they were now a team. Gareth considered whether that meant Daryl was now comfortable travelling with him. Although his behavior towards Gareth's actions said otherwise. "You can't act like you've never hurt anyone. We've all done stuff we're not proud of, you included. Everybody has done something inhumane to keep going. It's called survival, animal instinct, we've all got it in us. The only difference is that I can admit to what I do, that doesn't mean I'm proud of it, but at least I'm honest with myself. That's more than most people."

"It ain't right." Daryl sat up at that. He was slowly being swayed by Gareth's words, and he refused to sink any further. He turned to face Gareth, and the look he shot at his captor spoke a thousand words. "Those people didn't do nothin' to you."

"They asked us for something, two seconds after running into us." Gareth defended himself, also making a note to emphasize the word 'us' slightly. "You don't get it do you? I only kill people who have no respect, I kill people who are a threat. You were stupid enough to give them what they wanted, for all you know they could have pulled a gun and killed you when your back was turned. Taken everything we had."

"You would have killed us back at Terminus!" Daryl raised his voice, throwing caution to the wind. He cared little for walkers now, all he wanted was to win this argument. He knew he was loosing, because everything Gareth was saying seemed ever so truthful. "If we hadn't escaped... If they hadn't escaped. You would have killed us without a second though. Stop acting so high and fuckin' mighty. You're not a good guy."

"No, I'm not a good guy." Gareth agreed. He kept his voice low, attempting to rationalize this now heated argument. He kept his eye on the treeline, hoping that Daryl's voice had not stirred them. "But you gotta remember something Daryl. Nobody is a good guy in this life. Not even your beloved Sheriff. _You_ came to _our_ camp. Remember that? You came to us, and we tried to be hospitable. We wanted to welcome you into our group. But then your martyr ended up holding a gun to my head before I'd even finished showing you around. Your group was a threat to my people, so I had to take action."

"We weren't no damn threat!" Daryl defended not only himself but Rick too. At this, Gareth smiled.

"So, you're telling me that if someone that you didn't know came to your camp and held a gun to Rick's head, you wouldn't consider that person a threat?"

Daryl paused, suddenly taken aback by the reality of Gareth's words. For the first time, he had an understanding of Gareth's side of the story He immediately thought back to the Governor, and how he had tried to take everything from them. Was it true? Was Rick really as ruthless as the Governor? Among all of the confusion in Daryl's head, he could not find any words to form a coherent sentence. He simply watched Gareth, trying to figure out where to place certain pieces of information in his mind.

"I look after my own." Gareth added, now referring to the death of the two survivors just a few days ago, the reason for this argument. "What's mine, is mine. People don't get to just walk up and take things from me. I'm not a Charity."

It was hard to differentiate between whether Gareth was now talking about the food that the survivors had taken, or Daryl himself. Among all of this, Daryl noticed something very important. While their views on the word were extremely different, really there was some similarities between Gareth and Rick. They were both born leaders and protectors. They took care of what was theirs, although Gareth had slightly more barbaric ways of doing so. Leaving Daryl to his thoughts, Gareth stopped talking. The redneck eventually turned back around, looking at the city before him. He needed some time to contemplate. He needed to place this new view he had of Gareth. As much as his mind was telling him otherwise, Daryl couldn't stop his heart from thinking that, perhaps Gareth wasn't such a bad person after all.

"We leave at sunrise." Gareth added, putting an end to their conversation.

Meanwhile, just North West of Charlotte, in a small town called Lincolnton. Rick sat with his back to the wall, watching as Carl fell into a deep dreamless sleep. The night had fallen, and they had managed to find a place to stay in the form of an old restaurant. He sat considering everything that had happened over the past few weeks. Glenn and Maggie stayed huddled in the corner, enjoying each others company. Tara sat not far from them, speaking in hushed tones with Rosita. The rest of the survivors all relaxed in their separate places. Attempting to rest while they could.

Rick quickly looked over at Michonne, who had caught his eye. He gave her a pathetic smile and she returned the favor, although forced. She had been sitting on a piece of information for a few days now. Unsure how or when to tell Rick. Unsure if she should even mention it at all. Rick looked back down, he noticed the duffel bag of supplies on the floor, and upon it sat Daryl's crossbow. Savored by Rick, who refused to leave it behind. As he studied the crossbow, he couldn't help but miss his friend. His brother. He hoped desperately that Daryl was out there somewhere, safe and on his way to Washington to be reunited with his family.


	7. Charlotte

_AN: I do apologize for the slight delay in updating. Since I started this story, I've generally been pretty fast at spewing out the chapters but the past few days have been too manic to even think about writing. Anyway, just so you all know... My updates are never consistent. Really I try to update stories as often as I can but if the inspiration isn't there I'd rather wait instead of forcing out a half hearted chap that nobody wants to read. Anyway I had a whole Saturday to myself and managed to get quite a bit done, let me tell you... the next few chapters are going to be very interesting. While writing this I listened to "I Miss You" by Blink 182 a lot. I'm probably going to post a song list once this story is finished also. :) -CSM _

**Chapter 7**  
><strong>Charlotte<strong>

Daryl woke suddenly, his body attacked and now becoming aware of the freezing cold that had set in during early morning. Immediately after opening his eyes, he felt a shiver run thought his body. Up until now, they had experienced nothing but nice weather and clear skies. However, today they would experience the onslaught of torrential rain.

Daryl turned onto his back, he expected to be laying on wet muddy ground due to the rain, however he was surprised to find that he was bone dry. As he looked up, he noticed what looked like the a black inseam of a tent. It was stretched out, and tied around five consecutive trees. Gareth must have done that while he'd been sleeping, Daryl thought. The rain fell heavily onto the waterproof material and ran to the edges.

As Daryl sat up, he noticed Gareth poking at a small fire with a long branch. He sat with his legs crossed, looking rather bored. Every few seconds he had been looking out and watching the rain fall. At this point, only a small portion of Charlotte could be seen. The rest was covered in thick fog which drenched the city along with the rain. He noticed Daryl moving out of the corner of his eye and looked over at his prisoner.

"Finally, you're up." Gareth smiled. He quickly stood, almost with a hop in his step. The events of the previous day seemed to have been evaporated from his memory. "Let's go, daylight is burning."

Daryl looked around slowly, taking in the miserable weather before he shot Gareth a curious look.

"But it's raining." He replied sleepily. It took Gareth a moment to consider what Daryl had said, at which point his smile widened slightly.

"It's a figure of speech." Gareth shook his head, a sarcastic tone complimenting his voice. He quickly kicked the fire out using the heel of his boot and grabbed his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder and held a hand out for Daryl. The redneck took his captors hand and allowed Gareth to pull him to his feet. He adjusted his jacket slightly and gave Gareth a look as if to say, 'lead the way'.

They made their way from cover out into the pouring rain, the cold biting their skin worse than it had previously. Daryl tried not to show it, but he would have much rather just stayed under cover for the remainder of this horrible weather. As they followed the trail back down the mountain, towards civilization, a loud clap of thunder roared above them, followed by a flash of lightening.

"That's a good thing." Gareth said to Daryl over the sound of torrential rain, referring to the weather overhead. "The sound and light will hopefully confuse whatever is down there. It might make our job a little easier."

"Whatever you say, boss." Daryl replied sheepishly. He hated to admit it, but over the past few days he found himself less and less interested in surviving. He was not depressed, nor suicidal. He just found that he no longer had the energy to look for food, shelter and safety. He no longer wanted to fight or argue, he just wanted to live again. Although he knew that life was long gone. He found it easier, in that frame of mind, to then do whatever Gareth told him to do.

Of course he wanted to find his group again. He wanted to be reunited with Rick and the others, but as far as he could see. That was a long way off, just yet. So instead, he would stay pliant and silent. He would do whatever Gareth said and follow his captor, because Gareth was Daryl's only form of shelter available, for the time being. It would not be long term, but it was acceptable for the time being.

After what seemed like an endless walk, the two men found themselves entering the town which they had overlooked for the past night. The fog seemed to have gotten a lot denser since they'd made it down from the hilltop. Amidst the battering rain and occasional thunder, they could both clearly hear the sounds of walkers nearby. Disturbing moans of hunger would surround them every few seconds. Before they decided to go any further, they stopped just short of a liquor store. Gareth took it upon himself to kick down the door to a small store that seemed to be self run at one point. They entered quickly, shutting the door behind them.

"It'll probably be safer to work from store to store." Gareth stated. "The door to this one was boarded up, so I doubt there'll be anything in here that we can't handle."

Just as Gareth finished his sentence, they both heard the low growl of a walker, hunched over a desk just to the left of them. Gareth sighed and walked swiftly over to her, stabbing her in the back of the head with a sharp knife, leaving just a lifeless corpse.

"There ain't nothing in here that we need." Daryl replied, looking around at the scented candles and soaps which lined the walls. "Unless you wanna light up some candles, have a nice bubble bath?"

"Very funny." Gareth replied, although his stern face said otherwise. Gareth knew exactly what he was doing. Along this street, rows of stores would line the streets, however it would be much safer to exit through the back of this boutique and walk through the alley, instead of out in the open. He didn't consult with Daryl, instead he simply headed to the back of the store. Finding the fire exit, he gave it one quick push and found himself in the alley. Daryl followed his captor, as they made their way down the small passageway. Almost immediately, Gareth stopped again. He used a crowbar that was lodged into a nearby walkers head to pry open the next door.

"That's a liquor store." Daryl said. "Waste of time, they ain't gonna have anything."

"Daryl, liquor store's have guns." Gareth sighed. "How did you not know that?"

The redneck did not answer, instead he followed his captor, again saying nothing. Soon the door had been pried open, and almost immediately a walker came into their field of vision. It's hands grabbed at Gareth, who quickly managed to dodge the attack, caving in the man's skull with the crowbar he had just liberated. Daryl did nothing but watch, he liked that he didn't have to worry about every walker he came across. He had someone else to help him. he wasn't entirely self dependent, and that was what the redneck craved.

Gareth quickly made his way inside, scoping out the store with his pistol positioned so that he could easily shoot anything that came between him and his objective. When he found that the store was empty. He began his search. He quickly jumped behind the cash register and started rummaging through every drawer. Daryl simply stood, looking at the shelves which were almost bare. He found what looked like an empty bag on the floor. He quickly turned it upside down, making sure nothing was in there. Before he made his way to the kiosk.

"Stupid right? How people immediately go and steal cigarettes when shit goes to hell." He commented, looking at the empty shelves where packs of Marlboro and American Spirit would have been stocked. He found two packs of Marlboro light on the floor, both unopened. More than likely dropped during the ransack. He quickly picked them up and stowed them away in his bag. "You smoke?"

"I gave up." Gareth replied, still searching. He had found a nice handgun, which was fully loaded in the back of a drawer, hidden beneath other objects. He wondered why it was still there, and how nobody had taken it yet.

Daryl walked along, and tried to scavenge whatever else he could from the kiosk. Of course most of it had already been taken.

"I'm gonna check the basement." Gareth commented, he gave Daryl a quick look. "You stay here, keep looking for anything that might be useful."

Daryl nodded in response. Gareth quickly made his exit, returning to where they had just come from. But instead of heading outside, he went down a set of old wooden steps just opposite the emergency exit door. It was dark in the basement, so dark that he had to retrieve his torch from his backpack and light it up. He had no idea what he might be looking for, but really anything could be useful to them at the time being.

Meanwhile, Daryl continued his search, hoping to find something remotely helpful. He managed to find a few bags of beef jerky (never his favorite, but it would suffice), a pack of batteries, a few bottles of water and gum. After giving the store a once over, he decided to stow away a few bottles of alcohol, just for safe measure. At least if they didn't eat, they could get drunk and forget about being hungry. After packing a few bottles of whiskey and vodka into the bag, he perched himself on the check-out desk and pulled out a cigarette from the pack. Using the battery and a wrapper from a piece of gum, he created a makeshift lighter. Using the battery charge to set the metallic wrapping on fire, he lit the cigarette and took a long drag. It felt liberating.

As he waited for Gareth, he enjoyed the blissful ignorance of smoking. Soon after, he heard shuffling and noises coming from the basement. Deciding to ignore it, he continued his cigarette. A few moments later, yet more noises, and this time he was sure he could hear Gareth shouting something. Without thinking, he threw the cigarette to the ground and grabbed his knife. The one Gareth had entrusted on him. Perhaps there were other survivors? Holding out in the basement... it seemed likely.

Daryl made for the basement, taking the steps two at a time, he expected to find Gareth at an awkward stand off with his next meal. Instead, he turned and found his captor pinned to a wall by no less than five walkers. They must have been lurking in the shadows when Gareth went down there. The supplies Gareth kept with him, the guns, ammunition and food lay on the floor next to Daryl, abandoned. He could have easily taken it and ran, left Gareth to deal with his fate. But instead, something kicked in that told Daryl to help.

He ran over to Gareth, grabbing one of the walkers by the throat, he quickly stabbed the back of his head.

"Help me." Gareth shouted, almost as a order.

"I'm tryin'!" Daryl replied, a harsh bite in his voice. He managed to take down yet another walker with a swift blow to the head. Soon, the other three had turned their attention to the new person who had just arrived. As they shuffled towards Daryl, bodies deformed and ragged, Daryl managed to take a swing and kill yet another one.

As he backed up, he tripped on an electrical wire, falling to the floor, he hand nothing but a blade to protect him. Just as one of the walkers was about to fall on top of him, and end everything for the redneck. An almighty crack filled the air, and the woman fell lifeless next to Daryl. Another crack, followed by the death of yet another walker. As Daryl looked up, he noticed Gareth stood, holding what looked like a fire extinguisher.

Daryl quickly pulled himself up and caught his breath. Gareth walked towards to the other side of the room, dropping the fire extinguisher as he went. He grabbed his things he gave Daryl a quick nod of the head, as if nothing had happened.

"Thank you." He said, simply. Although those few words had a large impact of Daryl. He had never expected that he'd actually save Gareth's life, and he had never expected Gareth to thank him for anything.

"Don't mention it." He replied coolly.

"We better get out of here." Gareth said, slightly shaken up. He had noticed that it was not the smartest idea to head into a main city at the break of dawn. They hadn't managed to get much, but Gareth decided that it would be safer to stow away and search a smaller town. When confronted with this idea, Daryl simply nodded and agreed.


	8. And Then It Happened

_University life is stressful, only I would sign up for a new class when I barely have time to study for my current classes -derp-. Sorry for the delay, but y'know... life and stuff. - CSM_

**Chapter 8**  
><strong>And Then It Happened<strong>

They managed to come across a jeep which was still in working order just off of the main stretch of road, it had been ransacked already. Every last item that the owners tried to escape with had been stolen. Luckily for Daryl and Gareth, nobody had taken the liberty of stealing fuel. Perhaps in the midst of panic people were more interested in food and water.

The once perfectly clean off road vehicle was now covered in dust and blood. A usual combination for this world, apparently. Daryl quickly hopped into the drivers seat, starting up the engine as Gareth packed their backs into the back and seated himself in the front, only seconds before a walker had it's face pressed up against the glass. They seemed to awaken suddenly at the sound of the engine roaring to life. Up until now Daryl and Gareth had little trouble avoiding unwanted attention.

Daryl pulled backwards quickly, knocking the walker off it's feet and to the ground, before he sped away, leaving the city over run and barely touched. He took a deep breath as they trailed away from Charlotte, watching the living dead pass them by.

Gareth stayed quiet, still considering the predicament he found himself in earlier. He looked over to Daryl, who was still focused on driving and wondered why the redneck had chosen to help him. A feeling familiar to Gareth came to light, however he was quick to suppress it. As his chest tightened slightly, he quickly turned his attention to the road ahead and tried to rid his mind of past memories.

"I'm never following orders from you again." Daryl said sullenly, once they had reached the outskirts of the city and were now bordering on forest. Gareth looked to his captor, and prepared a snappy comeback, until he noticed a smile on Daryl's face.

They both laughed to themselves at the situation they had gotten themselves into. It felt liberating to smile, genuinely smile. It was surreal that they were smiling together, laughing together even. Once Daryl realized what was happening, his mind instantly skipped back to Rick, and how they would laugh on long drives together as they spoke about mundane topics. It was comforting to finally do that again, but unsettling that it had to be with the one person Daryl knew he should hate.

After a long comfortable silence following their moment of broken character, Daryl decided to question Gareth. It was a question he had been contemplating since they left Savannah, but he had no interest in really asking until now.

"You worked in Savannah?" Daryl questioned, even though he knew the answer. He just needed a way to start a conversation with his captor. Having not known Gareth for very long, Daryl had easily picked up on his captor's habits. He didn't have just good days and bad days, those emotional changes happened every hour with Gareth. However, Daryl was happy to hear Gareth reply with a 'Yeah I did, why?'

"Did you live there too?"

"Nah, I lived in Brunswick, a little out of the way." Gareth replied, lazily gazing out of the window at trees that passed. "But I didn't mind driving, I liked driving actually. Gave me some peace."

After another moment of silence, Daryl spoke.

"...Waycross."

"What-cross?"

"I lived in Waycross when all of this happened." Daryl commented, in his usual deep southern drawl. "It's not far from Brunswick."

"What trailer number did you have?" Gareth laughed, poking fun at his hostage yet again. Seeing that Daryl was less than impressed he quickly apologized and brushed it off as a simple joke.

"I was living with my brother, fixing cars... like I said before." Daryl answered, ending his portion of the conversation.

"Yeah? I got my car fixed in Waycross once." Gareth nodded, continuing to watch the changing scenery outside. As Daryl pulled up at a junction, he quickly read the signs and took a turn towards Uwharrie National Forest, just as Gareth had instructed. "I have no idea what that dumbass did to it but it sure as hell wasn't fixed... Maybe I should have just gone to the local liquor store and asked the nearest redneck to fix it for me." Gareth finished his sentence. Daryl refused to reply, now he stayed focused on the road ahead.

"It was this little joint..." Gareth began, hoping to fill the silence "small as hell. This little old guy ran it, but he was crazy as fuck. Shouting abuse at his kid and stuff, he had to have been like twenty or something, the kid I mean."

Gareth hadn't noticed Daryl's posture change slightly to one of mild discomfort.

"And this old fuck is just stood there telling him to stop being such a screw up and shit. Whoever fixed my car fucked it up though, I'll tell you that much. He comes out with it and he goes 'There you go, good as new' in this ugly as fuck redneck voice after four fucking hours."

Daryl took a deep breath, trying to contain his emotions. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. So he decided to stay totally silent and focus on the road. He wanted to block out what Gareth was saying, but for some reason his brain would not allow it.

"Smelt like alcohol too, like a lot of alcohol and I'm sure he'd been doing crack or something because he looked like he was about to pass out on me. Then he shouts back to old guy like 'Where the fuck is that little son of a bitch?' By this point I want to stick around just to see what's gonna happen, right? So I pretend I'm taking forever to fill out this stupid customer service form and the whole time I'm looking through the little window at these two rednecks going at it and arguing about this kid and the next thing I hear is this kid like 'Merle, shut your ass up I'm right here.' I mean, come on, what the hell is more redneck than the name Merle."

Daryl had not wanted to believe what Gareth was saying, and he felt his stomach drop at the name 'Merle'. Gareth had been to his fathers car repair shop all of those years ago. Before the dead roamed earth and before everything went to shit. Back when people had jobs, deadlines and families. Gareth had been near Daryl, and Daryl had been near Gareth. It was surreal to think that they had been so close to each other but had no idea what would happen to them ten years later.

"Anyway I didn't get to see the end of it, but I think the kid got it pretty bad that night."

Gareth looked over and noticed the less than impressed expression of Daryl's face. Not for one second did he think that he hit a nerve. No, he just assumed that Daryl was tired of hearing his captor babble on and on about something that had nothing to do with him. As they drove, Gareth noticed the entrance to the National Park. Instead of parking outside, he instructed Daryl to follow the trail as far as he could. Gareth gave not another thought to the story he had just shared, but in Daryl's mind it was all he could think of.

After around ten minutes of following the trail towards deserted mountains, Gareth noticed an old Guard Tower which still seemed reasonably safe. Daryl drove the car towards the clearing, and while a few walkers still lurked, the guard tower looked like a safe place to spend the night. It was around thirty feet tall, with a large office like bunker situated on top. The only way to reach it was by climbing a step ladder.

"This will do." Gareth smiled. Daryl quickly killed the engine as they pulled up next to it and gathered his thoughts. They needed to clear the surrounding area of potential threats, but Daryl's mind was far from focused.

After a heated killing session. Gareth caught his breath and gathered up the bodies, leaving them in a bundle not far from the tower. Meanwhile, Daryl unpacked their things and took them up to the guard tower one by one. First and foremost he took the bag of guns and ammunition, knowing it was the most important part of their survival. As he stood atop the guard tower he looked around at the dense trees that surrounded him. He quickly found the door, and held a sharp knife in his hand. Giving the door a few solid kicks, it flew open. Luckily, nothing was waiting for him. He stepped inside and dumped the bag in the corner of the room. As he looked around he noticed a sheriff's hat similar to Rick's on the wall. Next to it was a picture of a happy looking park ranger and a group of about twenty boy scouts. For a moment, that picture took Daryl's mind off of what was said earlier. As he looked around, he noticed items that looked simply untouched. There was a thick layer of dust which covered everything, Daryl flicked through a few pieces of paper, finding nothing of interest. He ran his fingers over an antique looking CD player and inspected the dust on his hands before finally leaving to gather the rest of their things.

Hours seemed to pass quickly, and soon enough Gareth and Daryl found themselves settling into their home for the night, as darkness fell upon them. Their belongings were now entirely in the guard tower, with only their car left in the open. As Daryl seated himself in a corner and opened a bottle of Jack Daniels he watched Gareth gauge the room. Gareth made his way over to the antique CD player and turned it over. It was indeed battery operated.

Gareth finally made his way towards Daryl and sat down near his travelling partner. They silently ate the small amount of food they managed to scavenge as Daryl took shots of Jack Daniels. It tasted sour, drinking it without a mix. But often, you had to work with what you had in a post-apocalyptic world. Soon enough, Gareth also took a swig from the Whiskey bottle, and pulled a face that expressed extreme distaste. Gareth had previously hated drinking too much, but now, he had nobody to answer to. He quickly took another swig, followed by another and found himself falling into previous habits.

After a silent bout of drinking on an empty stomach, Gareth finally turned to Daryl with glazed eyes.

"Why do you follow Rick like a lost puppy?" He questioned. Daryl knew this was not the liquor talking, Gareth was always this forward when he had a question to ask.

"He's done good by me. He's looked out for me from day one." Daryl replied honestly, feeling slightly affected by the shots of Jack Daniels. "He's my brother."

"He's a coward Daryl." Gareth argued. Before Daryl had a chance to defend his friend, Gareth continued. "No, don't protect him. He is a coward... he may have gotten you out of certain situations, but what did he do when I was a threat Daryl? He ran. He ran away like a scared little kid."

"Trying to brainwash me again?" Daryl laughed, looking at Gareth with a forced expression of 'I am unmoved by your words'.

"No, I'm not trying to brainwash you." Gareth shook his head. "I'm just... the more time we spend together the more I realize how alike we are. You don't need to follow anyone Daryl. You don't need anyone, but it's good to have people that are on the same brainwave as you. I am on that same brainwave."

"Alright." Daryl took the bottle away from Gareth. "Let me know how those brainwaves are working out for you when you sober up."

Gareth shook his head in annoyance and sighed. "I'm not drunk Daryl. Really I'm not. All I want you to understand is that, I know that you are better than what Rick uses you for. You're his second hand man right? Why do you have to be second to anyone?"

Daryl contemplated Gareth's words, and while he did agree... he only knew how it felt to follow someone and to have someone protect him. In fact, he was sure that the small amount of protection Gareth offered was what kept him all this time. Silence was the best answer, and Daryl decided to go with that. Taking another gulp of Jack Daniel's as he watched the cannibal.

"I mean sure, maybe the alcohol has made me open up a little bit. But I really think you deserve better than Rick. You deserve to lead your own group, you deserve to live Daryl. Rick wont keep you alive."

The silence that followed felt deafening for Daryl. Everything Gareth said always seemed to run around his head in an endless motion until it was unbearable. However, with the addition of alcohol, Gareth's words were a swarming mess in Daryl's mind.

As they drank more, they spoke more. Nothing personal, and nothing serious. They traded stories of people they had met during the outbreak, they spoke briefly about their families and previous lives. They drank until the bottle was empty and all they were left with was incoherent words and small bouts laughter. Uncontrollable relaxation around each other, which was surreal in so many ways.

As the night drew even darker, Daryl felt tiredness taking over his body. he lent back and closed his eyes slightly. Without realizing it, he was quickly falling into a deep sleep. Half way there, he felt Gareth move and he slowly opened his eyes curiously. Gareth was looking at a small picture which he had just pulled out of his pocket. Feeling mischievous Daryl quickly moved forward and grabbed the picture from Gareth's hand. As he studied it, he saw a young girl in a beautiful red dress. Her blonde hair was curled and she had an extremely nice smile.

"Who's this? Girlfriend?" Daryl laughed. Looking at the picture. Gareth shook his head and sternly told Daryl to give it back. When he received no such courtesy, he turned to face his captor.

"Daryl, give me the picture." Gareth asked politely once again. A smile crossed his face as the alcohol affected his movement.

"Tell me who it is first." Daryl smiled, holding the picture out of Gareth's reach. Gareth bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath.

"It's my Mom, now give it back before I go over to that bag, pull out a gun and shoot your stupid ass." Gareth threatened, attempting to grab the picture from Daryl's grip. Daryl moved again, edging out of Gareth's reach as he inspected the picture.

"Your Mom was hot in her younger years, I can't lie to you." Daryl teased. He noticed the smile disappear quickly from Gareth's face and worried that he had hit a nerve. The same expression Gareth wore for much of their time at Terminus returned and Daryl felt his stomach drop. As Gareth launched himself at Daryl, Daryl quickly scrambled to find anything that he could use to protect himself. However, he had left his knife in the bag which was way out of his reach. Within moments Gareth had Daryl pinned to the floor, a determined look in his eyes as he held Daryl's wrists against the cold metal floor.

The stare-off continued for a moment, before Gareth let out a deep breath.

"What is your problem?" He asked quietly.

Daryl did not answer. He still gripped the photograph in his hand, however he quickly released it and it laid on the floor casually. He hoped that would calm Gareth down, he hoped Gareth wouldn't go off on him. He knew the severity of Gareth's anger, and he did not wish to experience it again.

Almost at once, a familiar feeling returned. The closeness they felt at the hospital as they fought in the gun room. Both Gareth and Daryl had suppressed this emotion since, and now here it was. Like a sudden slap in the face, quick and painful. It throws you off and catches you suddenly. Daryl felt confused. He felt conflicted with himself. He felt uncomfortable but at the same time he did not want the discomfort to stop.

Before he had time to think it through too much, he felt a warmth upon his lips. Seconds passed, and soon he realized that Gareth's mouth were pressed against his.

For a moment, the dark world they called home, stopped spinning.


	9. Questions

_AN: Wow, can we all just take a moment of silence to appreciate how hot Daryl was getting into a fist fight with the police officer. Those who were picturing the guy as Gareth raise your hand. *raises hand slowly* -  
>Thanks to those of you who continue to review! Your words really mean a lot to me :) -CSM<em>

**Chapter Nine**  
><strong>Questions<strong>

Somewhere on the outskirts of Washington, a group had set up camp. Using everything they had in their inventory to create make-shift tents. Surviving on only measly portions of food. The morale among the group was at an all time low, and there seemed to be no way to improve it.

"What's the plan for today?" Glenn asked, directing his question towards the leader of their group, Rick. Without trying, the onus always seemed to fall into Ricks hands. He was the strongest of the group, the most cunning and willing. That was why the rest of his group always turned to him in moments of need. As Glenn attempted to start a fire, he looked up at the man who he had saved all those years ago in the city of Atlanta and noticed nothing but a lost soul. Rick was out of his depth, and had been for a long time.

"I don't know..." Rick sighed, under his breath. He was barely audible, but Glenn caught the gist. Rick did not want to be in command today. Almost as soon as silence had washed over them again, Judith cried out for attention.

"Don't worry, I've got her." Carl smiled at his Dad, picking up his little sister as he did so. He looked down at the small bundle and gently rocked his younger sister. Rick looked up slightly and gave Carl a gentle nod that spoke a thousand words.

"Rick..." Glenn started again, as soon as Carl was out of earshot. He had made his way over to Carol, who was now helping to nurse Judith with a pre-made bottle of milk. "You need to stop. Worrying wont solve anything."

When he received no answer, Glenn put down his tools and stood, rubbing his hands onto his jeans which left a new mark. He paced over to his friend, sitting down next to the sheriff, he sighed.

"We all miss Daryl, I get it." Glenn tried to ease Rick's pain. "It's hard not to miss people in this world. I mean, we could loose anyone at any time... for gods sake I still miss Dale, even after all of this time."

At that, Rick looked to his friend and nodded slightly, almost in agreement.

"Andrea, T-Dog, Hershal." Glenn continued. "Lori..."

At that, Rick had to bite back the searing pain which had flooded his heart in a matter of seconds. He missed his wife so dearly, and so often he would wake from night tremors, thinking that Lori was still alive.

"You just need look at it the way I do, if Daryl is still out there... you know he's strong enough to get by on his own. All of us are. Everyone that we lost... it wasn't because they couldn't take care of themselves. It was just because, it was their time." Glenn looked over to his girlfriend and smiled slightly, feeling grateful that the one person he loved so dearly was still here to hold him. "We all miss him, but we can't dwell on it. It doesn't help, at all. He knows where we were going, he'll probably turn up on a motorbike in a few days holding a whole bunch of squirrels."

At this, Rick smiled. Glenn nodded at patted his friend on the back before deciding to stand. He had nothing more of relevance to say. As he returned to the fire, Rick watched his son rocking his daughter. Even in such a monstrous world, there was still beauty to be found.

Neither Rick nor Glenn had realized that Michonne had been listening to their conversation, and while originally she thought better of coming clean, it really was obvious to her how important her secret piece of information was. Guilt flooded every part of her body as she looked at Rick. Loving feelings mixed with betrayal. It was hard to put her emotions for Rick into focus. However, now she knew that she had to come clean. Not just for the sake of Rick's sanity, but for hers as well.

She slowly placed her samurai sword back into it's holder, after sharpening it. She stood, and made her way over to Rick, looking down at her long time friend. One that she possessed so many confused feelings for. Rick looked up at Michonne and smiled.

"You okay?" He asked, expecting a simple 'yeah' in response.

"I need to tell you something." Michonne started, in an extremely serious tone. "Daryl is alive. He's with Gareth."

Michonne must have spoken louder than she intended, because at this, the whole camp fell silent and looked at Michonne. Panic began to set in, at an alarming rate.

As soon as Daryl found himself conscious, he groaned at the pounding in his up that morning was painful. Having not drunk heavily for a number of months, the alcoholic effects seemed to have set in ten fold. The sun was streaming in through one of the large windows and was irritating him quite substantially. As he became more conscious, he noticed that he was not alone. Somebody was laying next to him. Gareth.

As he opening his eyes and looked down, he noticed an arm wrapped around his waist. Daryl himself was laying flat on his back, and Gareth was laying on his side, wrapping himself around Daryl's mid- section. It was not uncomfortable, in fact in couldn't be compared to cuddling. It didn't seem sentimental or romantic, it just felt normal.

Minutes after waking, Daryl began to gain a slight memory of what had happened the previous night. Gareth had kissed him. That much he was sure of, despite most of the night being a blur. He was unsure of what happened after that, although he could only assume they had fallen asleep. They seemed to be in the same spot in which they kissed. Interesting.

Almost instantly, Daryl's logical thinking kicked in, and he panicked.

The realization of kissing Gareth had set in, and he pulled himself away quickly. Gareth woke in the process, his head was also in a horrible state. He refused to open his eyes, instead he simple spoke.

"Daryl?" He croaked, half-asleep. Daryl was fighting with himself. God he had enjoyed their moment last night, and he hated himself for that. He wasn't meant to like Gareth. Gareth had tried to kill his friends, Gareth had kidnapped him, Gareth wasn't a woman, Gareth was a psychopathic cannibal. There was so many reasons why Daryl found this whole situation unappealing, but for some unknown reason, a part of him wanted to experience it again.

Once Gareth had opened his eyes, he noticed the panicked look on Daryl's face. The events of the previous night rushed back and he smiled, before muttering a simple 'Fuck...'

Gareth pushed himself up, now sitting he rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hoping that the pounding hangover would pass in a few hours at most. He looked to Daryl expectantly.

When he received nothing, he simply stood and stretched his limbs. As he looked out of the window, which in turn, overlooked the National Park, he tried to rid his mind of any unwanted pain. God, he hated being hungover.

Meanwhile, while Gareth was acting so nonchalant, Daryl felt the fight bubbling up inside of him. He was getting worked up, because all he could do was argue with himself. He felt so frustrated, he didn't want to like Gareth... but for some reason he did. The anger was hard to hold onto, and within moments Daryl had stood up.

He lashed out at Gareth with uncertain rage. Shoving his captor as hard as he could to the ground. Before Gareth had a chance to defend himself, he found Daryl on top of him, and then searing pain. Punch after punch Daryl threw at the cannibal, making contact multiple times.

After a moment, he realized that Gareth was truly defenseless. He realized what he was doing, and he hated himself for it.

Quickly, Daryl pulled himself away and huddled against a wall, looking at his now blood stained knuckles. It was hard to hold back any emotions, even the most mundane ones. He was torn between crying and screaming. He wanted to kiss Gareth, and have Gareth tell him everything would be alright. Yet at the same time he wanted to strangle that son of a bitch. Never in his life had he ever been so confused.

Gareth sat up, and rubbed the majority of the blood from his face, still dazed from what had just happened. Daryl had not broken anything, he had simply split the skin below Gareth's eye, which was fine. Easy to repair, Gareth thought.

Instead of fighting back, and showing his authority over Daryl, Gareth looked to the floor.

"I'm sorry." He muttered.

Those two words shook Daryl into a state of consciousness. Never before had he heard such genuine words come from Gareth's mouth. It felt so strange, and out of character. He looked at Gareth and saw genuine remorse. That was enough to give Daryl a definite kick of sympathy. He sighed and tried to gather his emotions. It was difficult, but for the most part he managed to keep it together.

Silence followed. It lasted for much longer than it should have. Neither man said anything, instead they hid within their own thoughts. Eventually, Gareth looked to Daryl, with concern in his eyes. He had to choose his words carefully, and that he did.

"What..." He paused, noticing Daryl looking his way. "_Who_ hurt you?"

"What are you talking about?" Daryl questioned, a spiteful bite to his voice. There was no way that Gareth could possibly know anything of Daryl's past. Sure he had met Merle, however he wasn't aware of it at the time. Daryl had assumed that Gareth knew nothing about him, but perhaps he was wrong.

"Someone hurt you." Gareth spoke. "Once you woke up and realized that we'd kissed.. you went off. Why didn't you go off when I kissed you?"

"Because I was drunk." Daryl tried to defend himself, he hated that Gareth was scratching so low to the surface.

"Being drunk isn't an excuse." Gareth spoke, his tone was low and almost understanding. While Daryl felt uneasy, Gareth certainly had a way of calming any situation. When Gareth spoke, Daryl immediately thought back to his father. He had been abused from an early age, physically and emotionally. Almost every other day he would experience a beating from the one person who was meant to love him unconditionally, and deep down he knew that was the reason for his lack of trust. Something bigger stopped him from realizing the connection though. Something overpowering. He didn't want to face that, at least not yet.

Gareth took a deep breath, realizing this conversation would not go much further. He stood and grabbed the medical bag, hoping to bandage the cut Daryl had left upon his face. As he pulled out sterile strips to clean the wound, he tried to keep his opinions to himself. Daryl watched Gareth's movements eagerly, wondering why Gareth hadn't tried to defend himself.

Gareth groaned as the alcohol infused pad made it's way across the wound. It was so painful, he felt like screaming out. Sensing Gareth's pain, Daryl stood up and decided to help. Emotions and questions would come later, for now they could be suppressed. Daryl knew he was responsible for the gash on Gareth's face, so he thought he should be the one to fix it.

As he walked over to Gareth, he took the sterile strip and told his captor to hold his breath. Gareth did not argue, instead he did as he was told and allowed Daryl to take control.


	10. What the World Can Do

_AN: Hey yeah, I suck at updating. In-between being stoned and finishing University papers, I haven't had much time to chill with some buzzed tunes. Medical marijuana users, Skydog is the way to go. Just saying. _

**Chapter Ten**  
><strong>What the World Can Do <strong>

Just as Daryl placed the lasts sterile strip on Gareth's wound, he paused. His hands lingering for a few too many seconds. Not the hands of a doctor, but the hands of a lover taking care of his sweetheart. Those few seconds felt like hours, a bitter sweet mix of want and need.

Before allowing his mind to second guess his gut, Daryl moved forward and placed his lips upon Gareth's. It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't needy. It seemed like more of an experiment for both parties. A very rare moment of complete high for Daryl, to go off on a limb like that. Moments, seconds passed and soon Gareth found himself molding his lips to Daryl's. Confusion. Followed by a mimicked effect. If they were to stop and think about it, really think about it. They were kissing. Really kissing. Nobody was pulling away. An awkward stand off between pure chaos and sweet bliss.

And soon, a pleasant warmth crossed Daryl's lips. Gareth snaked his tongue inside Daryl's mouth. Intriguing, and still no backing away. Hesitantly, Daryl copied Gareth's moves. It had been a long time since he'd done this, and even then he had only done it once or twice at the drive in movie theater. This was different to the movie theater kisses though. It wasn't forced, or unpleasant. It was simple, and it flowed.

Among the mess, Daryl and Gareth found themselves entangled in a web of arms. Touching. Moving. Closeness. Too much closeness. Uncomfortable even.

Quickly, Daryl pulled away. Looking down at the floor, he caught his breath. Panic set in as his heart beat increased. He had no other way to control the surge of discomfort he suddenly experienced. A defensive wall was put up again, and Gareth knew better than to disturb it.

"I'm sorry." Daryl finally spoke, after an uncomfortable silence. It was not genuine, if anything it was out of courtesy.

"Don't be sorry." Gareth spoke softly. They were still treading on extremely thin ice. Sexuality, attraction and morals was an intricate web of endless questions. Hardly a black and white situation.

Without saying another word, Gareth quickly gathered up the medical kit. Closing the small box and putting it back into their belongings. Daryl still looked deep in secluded thought, so Gareth went about looking for supplies. He packed a bag with a few weapons. Melee and bullets. No doubt he would encounter some unwanted bodies. As he looked at Daryl, the person he would have one over, never let out of his sight for fear that he may not get to brutally murder his friends. Gareth smiled, to himself. He quickly pulled the backpack over his shoulder and set out. Daryl only looked up once he heard the door click, and he knew he wouldn't be seen.

He wanted desperately to be comfortable with the situation, but years of torment from everyone who was suppose to love him, left Daryl with a sense of never ending isolation. The only way Gareth could possible want him, would be with the added irony of extreme pain and hurt. His hungover mind was a complete mess, and he wanted nothing more than to be free from his past pain. This would all be a lot simpler if Daryl could think with his heart, instead of his brain.

As Gareth reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed a small gathering of walkers near the car they had quickly abandoned last night. Using a small knife, he made quick work of them and set off on a small trail, hoping to find an old camp in one of the many clearings.

His search led him for a few hours. Loosing track of time was easy when you had nowhere to be. So far, Gareth had liberated a few items he had found along the way. He had dark brown blood splattered across his shirt, where he encountered a rather determined corpse. It wasn't until he was about to turn back, that a small light in the distance caught his eye.

In among the trees, a thick orange and red light filled the dark forest. Gareth did not miss a beat, and he decided to investigate. As he approached, he noticed it was a small log burning fire. Next to it were two tents, both of which zipped completely shut.

Gareth stayed silent, surveying the area, he made sure to check that his gun was ready for action. Only when he was about move closer, the blue tent on the left moved. The door unzipped and out stepped a woman. She was young, blonde, very pretty. She obviously wasn't alone though. As she stretched and approached the fire, which Gareth had now noticed was cooking what looked like the remains of a wild animal. She called out lightly.

"It's ready."

As two more people crawled out of their tents, one a younger girl, of about fifteen, and a man that looked around Gareth's age, they settled themselves to eat.

Gareth quickly withdrew his gun from aiming, placing it back into the holster which usually carried his melee weapon. As he stepped forward into view, he held up his hands and placed a worried expression upon his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm not going to hurt you." As he spoke, a slightly patronizing Southern accent left his mouth. Unintentionally of course, but he ran with it. "It's just you're the first people I've come across in days."

"You poor thing." The young blonde worried. "Don't you have anyone with you? A camp?" She stood up quickly and allowed Gareth to come closer to the other camp mates. "Sit down, please."

Gareth accepted her invitation and sat down on an old blue metal deckchair, one which would usually be found at the beach. He looked around and asked who else was with them.

"Its us three." The guy answered, a sternness to his voice. He surveyed Gareth like he was nothing more than an x-ray. "And a couple others that have gone out looking for some more food."

"Would you like something to eat?" The blonde questioned, an unhealthy sweetness to her voice.

"No." The older man answered. "We're not a damn Charity. We don't even know who this guy is. Stop acting so god damn stupid Leigh"

"I'm sorry Peter." She replied, looking exhausted.

"I don't need anything to eat..." Gareth interrupted, before a fight could break out. "I'm trying to find my way back to where I lost some of my group. I thought I was heading the right way but I'm not. Have you got a map? If you could help me find my way I'll be out of your hair."

"If you don't know where you are then how the hell do you know you're going the wrong way?" The older man commented, trying to act smarter than he really was.

"Don't be such a brute." Leigh shot at her husband. She quickly stood up and retrieved an old Triple A map from one of the tents. "Do you know where it is you lost em'?" She quickly unfolded the map which showed the local area."

"I'm not sure..." Gareth said, trying to act as innocent as possible. With his slightly baby faced features, it was easy enough.

"Give me it here." Peter commented, almost snatching it out of Leigh's hands. "Women can't do jack shit. Now you say if I help you, you'll be on your way. Don't want nothing from us?"

"No sir." Gareth nodded. "I got all the water and food I need. I got the things I need to survive."

"You got anything valuable? You know, for my troubles?" The older guy questioned, a sleazy look upon his face. Only when he reached for his can of beer did Gareth notice he was drinking. He wondered what the foul smell was.

"Peter." Leigh interrupted. "Sweetie you don't need to give us anything..."

"Yes he does. Now shut your fat ass up before I beat you." Peter threatened, a deeper tone to his voice. The younger girl quickly retreated back to the tent, prior to that she had been eating silently behind the woman, Leigh. Leigh also found herself being quiet at this stage.

"What you got for me?" Peter smiled, showing his foul teeth.

Gareth wondered for a moment, and then rooted through his backpack. He pulled out a small silver locket which looked quite pricey. He had no idea, he had simply stumbled across it on his way here. As he handed over the small gold locket, Peter smiled. He placed it into his back pocket and nodded, before leaning over the map to direct Gareth on his way.

"Now what way did you say you came from?" Peter gruffed.

"Oh um... hold on I think I have something here." Gareth stood quickly, patting his back pockets theatrically. As he did so, he quickly slid the gun he carried over of the holster, before Leigh had time to scream, Gareth had put a bullet through the back of the mans head. The sound seemed to echo endlessly

Without even bothering to turn, he aimed his gun at the woman and let another bullet fly. She fell to the ground with a light thud, blood seeping from her temple. Gareth looked at the mess and sighed, just as the younger girl poked her head out of the tent. A look of shock crossed her face, before she too screamed. Gareth felt a lump in his throat. He hated having to do this to someone young, but it was for the best.

He pulled the trigger, a tight knot entering his stomach as he killed an innocent fifteen year old girl. A deep disappointment flooded Gareth. The sound of approaching walkers filled the air and he quickly went to work. Grabbed any relevant supplies in his bag. He took the majority of their water, they had a nice arsenal of knives, the kind a butcher would use. Gareth rolled up the tarp and stuffed it into his bag. As he stood up, a walker lurched for him, having made it much closer as Gareth rounded up what he could.

The cannibal quickly turned and plunged a knife into the walkers head, followed by another four or five. Just as the surrounding area seemed relatively clear, Gareth nodded and pulled the backpack onto his shoulder. Happy with his loot.

As he went to leave the campsite, a sudden cry filled the air. Gareth gritted his teeth and turned around, noticing the cry was coming from the tent he had left unopened. As the screams progressed, so did walker attention. Torn between running off and leaving a child, or going back and saving him. Gareth had a sudden gut wrenching guilt. Hesitantly, he approached the tent and opened it. Inside a young boy of perhaps three or four sat crying. He had light blonde hair, and blue eyes. Small dungarees covered green and black Pajamas.

Gareth sighed, looking behind him, he noticed walkers approaching even faster. Quick thinking failed him, and he punched the ground.

"Fucking, fuck." He bellowed, before grabbing the child. The boy continued to cry and scream as Gareth held him over his shoulder. Using the pistol, he shot down the walkers which were now fast approaching. He made a straight line towards a clearing, and tried to avoid every walker possible.

As he reached the clearing, he noticed a clear path towards the guard tower, taking to it fast, Gareth managed to outrun most of the walkers. One or two lurked around the guard tower, however he noticed Daryl already outside, killing off any that were too close for comfort. Gareth slowed to a fast paced walk, panting, he noticed the child's cries begin to die down.

Only then had it occurred to him that he was carrying a defenseless child, one that could barely talk, whom had not lost all of his family. The worst part was that Gareth himself was the killer.

God, what had this world done to him?


End file.
